Because I'm still in love with you

For years, I made video wrap-ups of each season. I stopped doing them a while ago because I felt I couldn't do anything new with them. This one doesn't break any ground, either, but it had been a while I since did one, and I wanted something to put on the blog. So here you go, my 2012 fall at a glance:

Fall 2012 from Casey Parks on Vimeo.

For old time's sake, here's a video collage of what I did this fall.

Summer 2010

Summer never really seemed to start in Portland. Last year's was so much different -- record hot heat, the river every weekend. This year the sky rained without stopping, and I stayed indoors. Still, I must have done plenty because I had more than enough footage for a video. So here it is, what I did during the summer of 2010:

Summer 2010 from Casey Parks on Vimeo.

Deceptively Spring

Here is my seasonal video of everything I did this spring. Oddly, I forgot to video the rain, which is the real underlying theme. June was the wettest Portland has ever had. Luckily, I made time to leave the state:

spring 2010 from Casey Parks on Vimeo.

My winter in pictures

winter 2010 from Casey Parks on Vimeo.

Also, if you're interested, here is a larger collection of photos I took this winter (more stills than sequences): MY FLICKR WINTER ALBUM.

What I did this fall

Before the top 10 songs, an interlude: Here's a montage of what I did this fall.

Fall 2009 from Casey Parks on Vimeo.

Summer's over

I spent the last days of summer cleaning up and saying goodbye. The river rafts are stored. My two best guys are headed out. The trees outside are changing.

Tomorrow, it'll be 90 degrees. This is the longest, hottest summer I've ever seen here. But the tops of the trees outside my window are marooning, so I know these record highs won't last forever. Soon, the leaves will change entirely before disappearing. [so leaf subsides to leaf]

This time last year, I was so relieved to see the red leaves. I couldn't wait for summer to end. I had spent the season crying, mourning everyone who had left.

The year before that, I was bewildered. The South does not have trees like the ones here. One day everything's green, the next brown. Then the trees fall bare, and the streets crunch underneath you when you walk. But in the northwest, you can see every gradation. There are so many shades of green to go through! And yellows! And reds! And orange! The brown comes, but slowly.

I spent that summer-fall transition (2007, I mean) with a point-and-shoot camera trying to capture each hue. I barely noticed summer had ended, I was so obsessed by the colors.

But this summer, it's different. The marooning tops shocked me. Already? I thought.

I'm not sure why it surprised me. Summer felt over a month ago. I went to Texas, came back, and the summer I had known was gone. No more river. No more late-night, post-work hang-outs. No purple hydrangeas. No girl.

So I focused on work. I started reading non-stop. I amped up my biking, even bought that new bike. It was great, but it didn't feel the same. The past month felt like a liminal space season.

But even that held something. For me, this summer changed everything. I spent so much of it outside, so much really living. I met so many new people, grew closer to some I knew already. I feel healthier and happier than I have in a long time. Summer's over -- and hell, I'm not stoked to see the gray, not stoked to see Ryan leaving for Africa -- but I know I spent this record-hot summer right.

So check it out. How I spent my twenty-sixth summer:

Summer 2009 from Casey Parks on Vimeo.

A good night, every night

PS: I kind of never want to hear this song again. But for a time there, it really did sum everything up. As CJ wrote to me, "It was a good night, every time."

PPS: If you want to see how I spent other seasons, check out: Spring 2009
Winter 2008/09
Winter 2007/08
Fall 2007
Summer 2007
watch closely and you can see Randi's hair grow!